


it's like we're standing on the edge (but we never learn to fly)

by sappho_not_shakespeare



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Injury, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Pre-Canon, Project Cadmus, Torture, general danvers, past alex/lucy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sappho_not_shakespeare/pseuds/sappho_not_shakespeare
Summary: A DEO mission finds a surprise waiting for them in an abandoned Cadmus facility.The surprise?Astra In-Ze.





	1. Chapter 1

You’ve been pacing around the DEO for hours now.

That annoying intern from HR is staring at you – has been for a while now – so you give him your best Agent Danvers glare until he withers, stalking back to whichever employee from HR (Pam, of course) sent him to watch you. Good riddance.

The door that leads to the medical bays stops you from walking any further, and you swallow the urge to pick the lock, if only to find something to do, something to distract yourself.

_Mandatory medical leave, my ass._

Your ribs have been healing pretty nicely over the last few days, barring your current inability to move too far to the left, of course. The press of bandages against the soft material of your shirt is irritating, and you want to pull them off too (Vasquez only managed a few seconds trying to get an IV in your arm, and you do feel a bit guilty about that whole ordeal). Unfortunately, the throbbing pain that shoots up your side every few seconds – along with the drugs that are still messing with your head – inhibit your willingness to move much farther than from your lab to the other end of the corridor.

Put like that, it must be the drugs.

 There’s a short burst of static as the communications device sitting in your ear bursts into life, and you wince at the intrusion, glancing around to see if you can get away with leaning against the table, grimacing when a cough sends pain coursing through your side.

“Alex?”

Kara. Relief seeps through your body, and you forget your injuries until the deep sigh you give at the sound of your sister’s voice is cut short as your torso protests.

“I’m hooking you up to a live feed,” Winn’s voice says. You glance down the stairwell to see him giving you a thumbs up.

Your teeth sink into the soft flesh of your cheek as you make it down the stairs – whose idea was it not to get a damn elevator? – and Winn gives you an awkward smile as he flicks the screen on. Agents are gathering round, half of them bearing the same apprehensive poker face that you’ve learned to associate with any Cadmus ops by now.

“Are you getting this?” Kara’s voice booms over the speakers.

 

In any other circumstances you would’ve laughed. Instead, you clear your throat.  
“Loud and clear, Supergirl.”  
“Right. Sorry.”

The feed continues in silence for a few minutes, almost indistinguishable against the black wall behind the projection, until a light flickers on in a large room your team has just broken the door to. You thought you’d taught them a little more subtlety than that, but you’ll take it.

Hospital bed. Stretcher. Tray of… surgical instruments? You make a mental list of medical equipment strewn across the spotless floor of the Cadmus base. They must have left in a hurry to leave such as mess.

The warm weight of J’onn’s hand rests on your shoulder when a vial of what looks freakishly like Kryptonite is held up to the camera by one of your agents.

“Kara?”

“I’m fine, Alex, the tube is lined with lead.”

You exhale slowly, not protesting when J’onn notices the hand you have pressed tightly against your side and slips his arm around your waist, pushing a desk chair towards you. In all honesty, you still would have killed them if it were anyone else.

Something hisses, a technical error, right in the middle of Kara’s surprised shout. The feed goes black, white pixels dancing across the screen as Winn types furiously, another monitor whirring into life.

“Winn?” you choke, jaw clenched tightly against the panic bubbling up in your chest.  
“I’m – I’m sorry, Alex, we’ve lost them.”

There’s a long silence as your fingernails dig into your palms.

“Not – not _lost_ , lost them I mean-”  
“Agent Schott.”  
“Right. Shutting up. Yes, J'onn. Sir.”

Ten minutes pass slowly, and your phone buzzes against your thigh. You check the caller ID: unknown. The room goes silent as you bring it to your ear, and you can see Winn already tracing the call in your peripheral vision.

“Agent Danvers speaking.”  
“Hello, Alex.”

You freeze.

“Luthor?”  
“The elder. Have you received my little gift?”  
“What do you mean?” you struggle to keep your voice even.  
“I thought you’d like her back, Alexandra. We know more about you than you realise.”

The line goes dead as goose bumps crawl across your skin.

“Her?” you raise your eyebrows at J’onn, who shakes his head in response.

The sudden gust of wind as a blur of red and blue lands on the balcony interrupts the nagging little voice in the back of your mind, and you turn around faster than you probably should have, ready to throw your arms around Kara, your icy reputation be damned.

Kara, whose suit is stained a grisly red from her neckline downwards. Kara, who somehow is trembling with the effort of standing. Kara, who looks like she’s about to pass out from holding-

 

“Astra.”

 

Your feet carry you forward while your brain is still stuck on the two syllables echoing loudly around the inside of your skull. Kara lowers the bundle – Astra, God, somehow it’s _Astra_ – onto a stretcher that seems to have materialised in the hallway. An oxygen mask is pressed into your outstretched fingers and you nod slowly, slipping it over the soft waves of the Kryptonian’s auburn hair. 

“She-” you choke, gaping with wide eyes as the med-evac team wheels her into the emergency OR. “You-” The lump in your throat makes it impossible to speak, and Kara seems to understand that you’re asking if she’s hurt when you gesture at the trail of blood Astra left on the ground.

“Supergirl,” J’onn says (you’d forgotten he was there by now) “sunlamp. Now.”

Kara protests for less time than you know from experience it takes her to eat a donut, and some part of your brain intends for you to follow her, but you stay rooted to the spot, completely unable to make your legs cooperate.

 “Alex. Breathe, please.”

Your lungs release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. 

“I… I _killed_ her.”

Finally, you raise your eyes to meet J’onn’s, searching for some kind of answer for the trillions of questions bouncing around your head like some form of screwed-up nuclear fission. He looks down at you for a few long seconds and your gaze flits down to the blood staining your fingers; you’d only touched her for mere seconds.

“You did what you had to.”

All you can do is shake your head, and eventually the muscles in your legs relax enough for movement. J’onn leads you to the observation room – which was only built because Kara was sick of waiting on the other side of a wall every time you took a bullet for her – and you slump into one of the chairs.

 

Hours later, after Astra flatlines twice and you’ve become oblivious to the doctors staring, wondering why you care. You might wonder too, but you’re too exhausted to question anything right now. There’s a knock on the door, and you stand, ready to argue with J’onn over whether or not you should be the one operating on Astra (Someone just referred to the woman as “Kara’s aunt”, and oddly, that makes your stomach twist a little).

Irritated, you shove the door open, only to come face to face – well, not really, more like face to abdomen – with Lucy.   
“I thought the last thing you’d want right now was another surprise visit from an old flame, but you didn’t answer any of my calls.”  
The playful glint never seems to leave her eyes, but you can’t quite muster the energy to rise to her comment.  
“I just... I don’t get it,” you whisper, not even bothering to question it when Lucy pulls up the hem of your shirt, allegedly to check your bandages. She catches your eye and the corner of her mouth twists upwards into a smirk. You try to ignore the blood rushing to your face, and if Lucy notices, thank God she doesn’t comment.  
“These should’ve been changed hours ago. I’m taking you home.”  
“But I-”

She shushes you. Actually shushes you, like an annoyed librarian or something.

“Kara is with Luthor, I just checked on her –  don’t worry, the gay one, not the evil one – and…” she trails off, not giving you the opportunity to do anything other than blink at her observations, “Astra,” she decides to call her, “won’t be much company for a while.”  
“Lucy…”  
“Me on the other hand,” she cocks her head to the side, grinning. “I’m _always_ good company.”  
“Fine.”

 

 

 

//

 

 

“Should you be drinking with those meds?”  
“Nope.”  
You pour another two fingers of the scotch Lucy bought you as a “sorry I arrested you for treason” gift, and look up at her. She shrugs, and you splash some more into a second glass, pushing it towards her.

Lucy practically forced you into the shower after waterproofing the deep gash you’re wearing like a badge of honour after taking down that Hellgrammite last week. Your hair is wet, and you’re pretending not to notice the way Lucy keeps staring. 

Having decided against watering either glass down, the alcohol goes more or less straight to your head. Lucy sips hers slowly, not taking her eyes off you as you down the rest of the glass, placing it back on the coffee table with a lot more force than necessary. 

“Can I ask you a question?”  
Lucy stares you down for a while before shrugging again.  
“Shoot.”  
“Am I a bad person?” 

Lucy clearly knows you don’t want sympathy – in fact, the only reason you actually said it is because she's is the last person who would ever throw you a pity party. The guilt twisting in your gut isn’t fading - hasn’t in a long time - and now it’s reignited by Astra’s surprise comeback.

“No,” she says simply, putting her half-empty glass back on the table. “Why do you ask, Danvers? Is this about the whole… reincarnation thing with Kara’s aunt?”  
Your face finds its way into your hands.  
“No. And please don’t call her that.”  
Lucy’s eyebrows pull together, and you can usually tell what she’s thinking, but the scotch has made everything a little hazy, so you wait for her to speak.  
“You didn’t sleep with Astra, did you?”  
Pain lashes up your side as you flinch, refusing to look at Lucy.   
“No." Her hand rests gently on your shoulder, waiting patiently for you to explain.  
"But I think... I think I may have definitely had... feelings for her.” Your voice rises into a question, breaking without your consent, so you chug what's left of the scotch without blinking.

Oops. You’re not usually this blunt, even drunk. Lucy doesn’t seem to care, though, so you relax slightly into her hug.

“And then she died?”  
Ouch. It sounds even worse now than it did in your head.   
“And then I killed her,” you correct, the room spinning slightly as you check your phone again. Nothing.  
“Fuck.”  
Nodding in agreement, you glance at the watch nestled in the curve of your wrist. Almost two o’clock. You stifle a yawn as you read J’onn’s confirmation that both Kryptonians are still breathing.

“Look, we’ll talk about it in the morning, Alex.” She never calls you by your first name. You wonder briefly if you should’ve kept that information to yourself before Lucy holds out a hand, gesturing behind you towards the bed.

“I’ll take the couch.”

You roll your eyes at her.

 “’s big enough for both of us,” you mumble, tripping up the inconveniently-placed steps before sliding under the duvet.

One of your arms ends up over Lucy’s waist and she snorts as you snuggle into her side. Sober you would be more reserved, but drunk you doesn’t seem to give a damn about lines between friendship and old crushes.

“How’s that whole heterosexuality thing going, Danvers?”

 Drunk you also knows that you won’t remember enough of this conversation to care in the morning.

 “Non-existent.”

 You feel Lucy laughing, rather than hear it, and you’re grateful for the distraction before you pass out, unable to get the sight of Astra’s blood out of your head.


	2. Chapter 2

When your phone starts ringing, you realise you can’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. You squint at the too-bright screen, the dull throbbing in your head intensifying as you answer the call.

 

“Alex,” Kara’s voice comes through, sounding suspiciously like she has her mouth full.

 

“Vasquez just said something about taking her off the sedation.”

 

You jerk upright, pulling the duvet off Lucy and earning an irritated grunt in response.

 

“What?”

 

“They’re taking her off the sedation. Or they will be. I don’t know if you wanted to be there, or…”

 

You grimace as Kara trails off, static crackling in your ear.

 

“Give me twenty minutes,” you mutter, about to hang up.

 

There’s a long pause, and you hear the unmistakeable whoosh of Kara flying through the city.

“Or you could just-” a gust of wind raises goosebumps on your skin, and Kara materialises in your kitchen, “Okay. You’re here.”

 

You glance down at Lucy, noticing for the first time that she’s only wearing her underwear.  Kara clears her throat awkwardly, looking relieved when she notices that you’re wearing considerably more clothing than the woman still snoring in your bed.

 

“Luce?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Get your ass out of my bed.”

 

That gets her attention, and Lucy blinks sleepily up at you in the dim light. You focus on looking anywhere else as she rolls over into your side.

 

“What was that about my ass?” she murmurs, barely awake.

 

Kara coughs loudly, reluctantly setting down the tray of paper cups in her hand. The smell of food makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, and your nose wrinkles. Your sister makes an adorably uncomfortable attempt to look anywhere except at Lucy, and unfortunately for you, her gaze lands on the still-open and mostly empty bottle of scotch on the table.

 

“Right. Kara,” Lucy observes, already yanking on her clothes. “Any news?”

 

“Dr Hamilton was talking about taking her off the sedation when I left, but they haven’t yet because she’s unstable,” she explains, “Alex said she wanted to be kept in the loop, so here I am.”  Kara’s overly-cheery tone doesn’t compensate for the confusion pulling her eyebrows together, the concern etched into her gaze.

 

“Alex,” she continues, turning to look at you properly for the first time, “can we talk?”

 

You groan internally, or possibly out loud, because Lucy gives you an odd look before shutting the bathroom door.

 

“You and Lucy didn’t…” her eyebrows pinch together and she shifts uncomfortably, her awkwardness almost amusing seeing as she’s wearing her suit.

 

“No, Kara. We’re just friends.” _Probably_. You sigh, staring pointedly at the wall. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

 

“Okay. I thought you’d stopped drinking.”

 

Well, that’s definitely worse.

 

“Can we have that conversation another time, Kara?”

 

“Why? Alex, I’m worried about you.”

 

You wince, remembering that tone from the morning phone calls in med school, pretending you weren’t still hung-over, or more likely still drunk, from the night before. Guilt bubbles in your chest, but you force it down, shaking your head. If you’re really at the lying-to-Kara stage already, this spiral is taking you down faster than you’d anticipated.

 

“I’m fine, Kara,” you force out, wincing as she opens the curtains, “She’s your Aunt, I should be worried about you.”

 

Lucy’s hovering in the doorway of the bathroom uncertainly, and relief passes over her face when Kara forces a smile. You blink in the unwelcome brightness streaming in from the window and pull some jeans on.

 

“We should get to the DEO.”

 

 

//

 

 

 

They must have moved her to one of the new rooms at the back of the building, because each set of locked doors to Astra’s room has more security than you know for a fact the White House has. Your fingers itch for the cool weight of the ID badge sitting in the pocket of your jeans, but Kara reminds you (more than once) that you don’t need to threaten people who pretty much work for you.

 

At least that would’ve been something to look forward to.

 

Soon enough, there’s only a curtain separating you from the unconscious Kryptonian. You swallow, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots as Vasquez presses a chart into you hand. You’re just scanning the lab results when the heart rate monitor starts beeping incessantly at you.

 

“This keeps happening,” Kara explains, gesturing as someone in a lab coat and black scrubs fiddles with the dial on the monitor.

 

“There’s no kryptonite in the DEO anymore,” you mutter, scanning the numbers in the file, almost irritated when they’re all within a perfectly normal range.

 

Vasquez shakes her head, waiting for you to elaborate, “The tox screen is clear. Nothing to indicate that she’s been poisoned.”

 

 _Poisoned_.

 

Normal tox screens don’t check for Kryptonite. Your head snaps towards the bed as Astra’s heart rate dips below thirty, adrenaline racing through your body.

 

“Kara, I need a yellow sun grenade from my lab. Now.” She’s gone before you can finish your sentence, leaving you alone with Vasquez by Astra’s bed. The curtain almost falls off the rail when Kara reappears with the grenade in her hand.

 

“Alex?”

 

“I think… I think there’s kryptonite in her blood.”

 

Kara’s mouth falls open in horror, her eyes darting from the woman lying in the bed to you.

 

“I can’t think of anything else that could be causing the bradycardia. It would explain the needles you found in the Cadmus labs.”

 

Kara swallows, her eyes wide as you detach the syringe from the pin and slip it into the marked skin of the inside of Astra’s elbow.

 

“She’s not invulnerable,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

 

Your breath catches in your throat as you wait for something to happen. There’s a long beat of silence before the skin around the needle in Astra’s arm glows yellow and her heart rate begins to increase. Forty-five, fifty-three, sixty. It evens out around eighty and you feel Kara relax behind you.

 

“I should’ve thought of that sooner,” Kara sighs. You reach out to put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“You should get some rest.”

 

You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve seen Kara actually tired, and this is definitely one of them. Exhaustion lines her face, and her shoulders sag forwards, her pale skin a disturbing contrast to the bright colours of her suit.

 

“Wait,” Kara sighs, ignoring your ‘big sister tone’, “How long did you spend under the sun lamp?”

 

She doesn’t reply.

 

“I tried,” Vasquez says with a shrug. “So did J’onn.”

 

“Kara?”

 

“Yes?” she mutters, scowling like an irritated toddler.

 

“Sun lamp. Now.”

 

Vasquez nods politely at you as she closes the door. Without someone else to focus on, everything feels heightened, and the scrape of metal on the floor as you drag a chair across the room is absurdly loud in the silence. It’s black and made of reinforced metal, like everything else in the room; the temperature reading on the monitor may suggest otherwise, but the mostly empty room feels chilly and bare, reminding you of one of the cells underground. You pull your sleeves over your hands and force yourself to look at Astra.

 

The standard gown draped over her shoulders seems wrong, having only seen her in Kryptonian military uniform in the past. She’d even insisted on wearing it that day in your apartment, and you remember the way her eyes softened and the conflict battling in her eyes, the way her nickname for you fell from her lips, how long you spent imagining what they’d feel like against your own.

 

That thing, whatever it was, was over before it could really have begun, of course.

 

Regret throbs in your chest, the lump in your throat almost cutting off your breath as the room tips to the side slightly. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the arms of the chair with enough force that if you had half the strength Astra had – _has –_ it would’ve turned to dust in your hands.

 

Somehow, you end up gravitating towards her, your fingers brushing softly over the back of her hand, lying still on the bed. Your heart is thudding so loudly in your chest that you don’t notice the change in her breathing.

 

Astra’s fingers tighten suddenly around yours, and you freeze, looking up as her eyes flutter open. The first time her eyes open after you killed her is something you can’t unsee, and adrenaline rips through you at the sight.

 

“Alexandra,” she sighs, blinking at you in the harsh, fluorescent light.

 

You stare mutely at her as she looks around the room.

 

“This is not Cadmus.”

 

It’s evidently not a question, and you wonder briefly if she’d known what their plans were all along.

 

“You died. I killed you. I don’t understand.”

 

Even to you, your voice sounds flat, devoid of emotion. It’s the soldier instinct in you, keeping a lid on the terror pounding in time with your pulse.

“My brave one, there are many things you do not understand.”

 

Her voice is soft, cradling the syllables, and your skin tingles when she calls you hers, only to be replaced by the burning guilt, returning with a vengeance.

 

“I’m so, _so_ sorry,” you choke, your jaw tightening to the point of pain as your teeth grind together.

 

“We are soldiers, Alexandra,” she pauses, reaching for your hand again, “you did what you had to do for your commander and your planet.”

 

A long moment passes, and you know you should go and get someone, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

 

“I am sorry too.”

 

That was unexpected. Your eyebrows pull together and you finally make yourself meet her gaze.

 

“I was wrong. I may have had, as you said, the right intentions, yet I see now that my actions were…” she pauses, thinking, “unprovoked.”

 

You manage a nod.

 

“Kara, uh, Kara’s here. Do you want to speak to her?”

 

Before she can reply, the door opens and Kara is standing at the end of the bed with wide eyes.

 

“I should go,” you mumble, wincing when you stand up too fast. Kara is at your side before you can blink.

 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, anger seeping into your voice. You don’t want to push her away, but it’s your fault that Astra died in the first place, that you were in the position to choose whether it was her or J’onn, your fault that Kara is now worried about you at her own expense, at Astra’s.

 

“You are hurt, Alexandra. Even soldiers must rest.”

 

Kara’s crinkle reappears at the concern lacing Astra’s voice, and you hate yourself for it with every painful breath.

 

“I’m fine,” you repeat, “I have to go.”

 

 

Lucy calls after you, but you can’t bring yourself to let another person down today, and eventually, you find yourself by the water, the city behind you as you glare into the murky depths of the lake. The cold wind tangles your hair, and you could put your hands in the pockets of your jeans, but some part of you doesn’t care enough to anything but stand. Your fingers are numb by the time you’ve had enough of your phone buzzing in your pocket.

 

You don’t realise you’re shaking until someone slips a jacket over your shoulders, gripping your arm like you’re going to fade away if they don’t. In a daze, you realise it’s Lucy, but you’re too numb to speak when she starts asking you questions.

 

“Alex,” she growls, cupping your face, her eyes burning with intensity, “don’t. Fucking. Do that.”

 

Her face is too close to yours, and you’re too numb to feel anything, but you need to feel something, _anything_ , so overwhelmingly, so desperately that you don’t even think before you close the gap between you and press your lips together.

 

Luckily, she seems to realise that you’re not kissing her for the sake of kissing her, but because she knows the yearning to feel something that isn’t equal parts numbness and pain. She pulls back almost immediately, not afraid to look you in the eye.

 

“You don’t want that, Alex. I know you don’t.”

 

She’s fishing in her pocket for the key you gave her to your apartment by the time you’re able to speak.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

 

Being impulsive has always been an issue of yours, which is something Lucy is all too aware of at this point. When she smiles at you gently, your shoulders sag forward in relief.

 

“It’s okay, Alex, honestly.”

 

Ordinarily, she’d probably make fun of you, but the hollow ache in your chest is apparently visible from the outside, so she silently presses a glass of water into your hand.

 

“Is Kara okay?”

 

“Fine. She wanted to come and look for you but I told her to get her ass back under the sun lamp so you wouldn’t kill me.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I also ordered pizza, so you have to love me forever,” she adds with a grin.

 

“I will. You’re the best.”

 

She sits down next to you on the sofa, slipping her arm round your shoulders. You sit in silence for a long time, half asleep as you wait for the pizza guy to come. The doorbell rings through the apartment (you’d honestly forgotten you had one – no one ever uses it) and you ease out of Lucy’s arms to answer it.

 

Running a hand through your hair to smooth the tangled waves, you slide the lock across and open the door. You look towards the elevator, finding the hallway empty. You step outside the apartment, confused. The sudden creak of a door raises the hairs on the back of your neck, goosebumps crawling across your skin.

 

Breath catching in your throat, you freeze at the barely-there sound of a single footstep behind you, your muscles tensing in anticipation. You open your mouth to speak. Before you have time to react, there’s a hand around your throat, cutting off your airway. Your fingers scratch uselessly at the hand as you fight for breath. The only adrenaline-fueled defence you can muster slams your head into the wall, and you pray that someone heard. The logical part of your brain knows it’s too late as warmth drips down your scalp, dripping onto your shoulder.

 

The bruising pressure on your throat lessens at the same time a needle slips into the side of your neck, the burning pain giving way to darkness as the world slips out of reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, no lesbians die on my watch. ;)

The first thing that registers in the hazy mess of semi-consciousness is pain.

You know your wrists are bound before you can even open your eyes, the metal biting hard into your skin. You try to move off the floor, regretting the decision immediately when nausea wells in your chest, pain shooting through your skull. Easing into a sitting position, the cuffs rub bruises into your skin.

You blink, panic coursing through you when your vision refuses to clear, black spots dancing in front of your eyes. The room is small, and almost empty, except a metal chair and table you're guessing are bolted to the ground.

Thankfully, the warmth trickling from the gash has slowed to a dribble. You tear a strip of fabric off your sleeve and press it to the wound, wincing as your vision dances in and out of focus. You're just trying to recall the symptoms of a concussion and wondering how the fuck your head is still bleeding when the solid metal door clicks, as if it's being unlocked. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to throw up as your take in your surroundings.

As the door slides open, you force your body to cooperate enough to stand. Luckily, you get a good look at the corridor outside the cell you're trapped in before a guard blocks your view. From the look of it, you're guessing it's one of Cadmus's facilities. Your suspicions are confirmed when none other than Lillian Luthor steps carefully into the room, wearing a tight smile, smugness radiating from every pore.

"What do you want," you spit, suddenly aware that the hearing in you left ear is definitely off.

"I just wanted to talk, Agent Danvers. All of this," she gestures to the blood seeping into the fabric of your shirt, "was your own doing."

"Of course, next time when you want to drug me in my own apartment I'll just come willingly."

She raises her eyebrows when you take a step forward and the room lurches sideways. You catch yourself on the chair, swallowing hard as you stare at each other.

"Get to the point, Luthor," your voice comes out strained, irritation prickling your skin.

"With pleasure," she leans forward to cup your chin, and you jerk away from the touch, anger burning in your veins. "But you have something to ask me."

Astra's fingers closing around her hand. The intensity burning in her eyes. The blood. _God_ , the blood was everywhere. The eerie green glow and the jagged thrust of metal that killed her. How easily it slid into her body. Bile inches up your throat at the thought.

"How?"

The other woman's face is unequivocally blank, but at your grimace, the corner of her mouth twists upwards into another smug grin. Your palms itch to wipe it off her face, but you grit your teeth and wait, adrenaline dulling the pulsing ache above your temple.

"Sit down."

You flinch as the door opens again, the sound of metal grating against metal raising goosebumps on your skin. The temperature seems to have dropped since you woke up, and in your mind, the nagging voice that went to medical school is mumbling something about head injuries.

A guard enters the room, dressed head to toe in black uniform, his face almost concealed from your view. You miss the weight of a gun against your thigh when you notice the heavy-looking handgun in his hand.

"What did you do to her?"

Lillian laughs humourlessly, stepping forward to lean on the small table resting in front of you.

"You're a scientist, Agent Danvers, I would've thought you'd have some ideas of your own."

Your pulse thuds in your ears.

"How is she alive?"

"We've been rogue for longer than that sister of yours has been on earth. Don't you think we've had time to become a little…" she pauses, only a couple of inches from your face, "creative, with our experiments?"

"Where's my father?"

She scoffs, clearly expecting you to ask sooner or later.

"If I knew, you wouldn't be here."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He was on a mission, for our cause, of course. Jeremiah went off the grid two weeks ago."

You swallow, dropping your gaze to the bruises blossoming under the cuffs on your wrists.

"I'm only going to ask one more time," you tell her, your voice low, "What do you want from me, Luthor?"

"It's fairly simple, Agent. There are two kryptonians on this planet, and both of them would do anything," she enunciates slowly, "if they thought you were at risk."

Guilt seeps through your body at the threat. You're no longer part of the DEO, but a liability, a pawn being played on the wrong side of the board.

"Supergirl will come for me."

She scoffs.

"It's not Supergirl I'm counting on. She has a loyalty to the City. She's the weaker of the two."

"You might as well tell me your plan and get it over with."

Luthor doesn't reply, but her smile widens when your gaze falls on a small camera on the ceiling, a red light blinking down at you.

"Now, agent. You're going to do what I say, or the whole DEO gets to watch while we make you."

Your chest tightens as Lillian angles the camera towards you.

"Read it from the beginning."

You force your vision into focus, the dull throbbing in your head making itself known again.

"Supergirl," you make it past the first word, refusing to look at the camera. "this is a message from Cadmus. You will hand over the alien registry –"

The words catch in your throat. Lillian's presence behind you is tangible in the eerie silence of the room.

"I'm not doing this."

You turn around to face her, skin crawling when she smiles at you. Her hand moves in a swift signal to the guard and your stomach drops when he moves towards you. Without the handcuffs, you'd at least stand a chance, but the blow to the side of your face almost knocks you off your feet. A sharp blow to your stomach sends agony searing through your body, burning under your skin like a flame.

"One more word," Lillian sneers, as your eyes water with pain, "and your precious Supergirl gets a live feed of motivation to save you."

Live. A spark of hope glints in your chest. You glare at Lillian, unflinching when the guard moves instinctively closer.

"Do it," you lower your voice, refusing to break eye contact first, "You're underestimating us."

"You'll soon change your mind about that."

If Kara was here, she'd call you an idiot. In all honesty, the same goes for Lucy, J'onn, and pretty much anyone who works at the DEO. But it's an unspoken rule that you don't negotiate with terrorists, let alone organisations who would rather commit genocide than allow Supergirl to walk the Earth.

Lillian clearly doesn't like being messed with, and your alone time with her favourite guard has left you struggling to inhale deeply enough, the burning in your chest indicating a few rib fractures, at the very least. You spit out some blood, coughing as she walks back in. The doctor in you mutters something about internal bleeding, but you shove the thought to the back of your mind.

You probably are an idiot, but if it comes to your life or the alien registry you can't let Kara pick you.

"We're live."

Your stomach twists into knots, the hard grip on your arm the only thing that's really keeping you standing. In a desperate attempt to seem uninjured for Kara, you stand a little straighter, disregarding the pain shooting through your upper body.

"No we're not," you mutter.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't connected the right power cable."

Lillian glares at you for a few seconds before hissing something at her guard. She turns back to you with barely-disguised confusion etching lines into her face.

"Why do you care?"

"I want them to know I'm alive."

It's only a half lie, and Lillian clearly buys it, because she shoves the equipment into your hands with an order to fix it.

 _Thank God for Winn_ , you think as you disconnect the GPS tracker from the back of the camera, reconnecting the other wires. If they can't find you, Cadmus won't have anything over the DEO to bribe Supergirl with. You trust Kara with your life – of course you do – and that's exactly why you can't trust her to save the alien population of the city over you.

"It's ready."

"Read from the card this time," she mutters, her features twisting in irritation as she leaves the room. Good. That makes your plan a hell of a lot easier. It's only you and one guard in a soundproof cell; this might work better than you'd hoped.

"Supergirl."

The red light blinks at you, cutting through the dark corners of your blurry vision. Nausea rolls in your chest as you hear the guard approach you at the same time you drop the card. Your fist connects with his nose. The guard doubles over, and you slam your elbow into his temple, knocking him out before he can make a sound. You reach for his tactical belt, fingers closing around the pocketknife.

The exertion leaves you dizzy, adrenaline trickling feebly into your blood as you slump against the wall, clutching the knife in your fist. Pushing your sleeve up, you grit your teeth as pain rocks through your abdomen. The blade drags against your skin and a short gasp leaves your mouth as you dig the blade in, knocking the small GPS tracker out of your flesh. 

You try to wipe the blood away, gripping the camera tightly in your fist as you switch it on.

"Supergirl." Your vision is definitely darker now, your eyelids fighting hard to stay open. You hope the blood on your face isn't too visible for Kara's sake.

"Cadmus have me. They want the registry but you can't give it to them. Don't look for me, okay, Kara? I can't let you sacrifice all those people. I'll get out, but you can't look for me. You can't let them kill all those people for me. It's not worth it," you notice that the camera is shaking violently. You glance down and realise that your whole body is trembling with cold, your chest aching with each breath. "I will get out, Kara. I promise."

The feed cuts off, the camera slipping from your hands as you slide down the wall, shaking with the effort to keep yourself up. Your hands grip the material of your shirt, lifting it up. A hiss of pain escapes your lips as your eyes land on the deep purple of your skin. The upper left side of your abdomen is a livid red, and the flesh is rigid and burning when you fingers brush over it.

You don't know how long you sit there, focusing all your energy breathing as evenly as you can. It feels like days, but part of you knows that they're coming for you.

 _I'm going to die_.

Maybe that's okay. Cadmus won't have a hold over Kara anymore. The alien registry will be safe. Astra…

God, Astra. Your chest aches with regret, and the sound of footsteps echoes outside. There's a low hum buzzing in your ears, but you're shivering and your vision is growing darker despite the fluorescent lighting, so you ignore it, letting your grip on consciousness weaken.

Some part of your brain registers the humming noise getting louder, growling like something out of the DEO's holding cells. Your eyelids are too heavy to fully open now, and the pain is dulling to discomfort.

A frantic shout registers in the ear that works, something about a helicopter. Your brain is too foggy to make the connection until the door bursts open, light flooding the tiny cell.

Warm hands slip under your head, and voices buzz in your ears, all merging into one.

"Alex?"

It's Lucy. The sound of her voice becomes more tangible as you fight the heaviness pulling you under.

"Stay awake, Alex. We've got you."

You nod, your lips suddenly dry when to try to speak.

"What were you thinking?"

She sounds angry, and you mumble an apology, a thought suddenly registering in your brain.

"K-kara?" you manage, looking up at Lucy as much as you can manage as another agent slips a needle into the crook of your arm. "Where's Kara?"

"I told her to go after Lillian. She's safe."

You want to disagree, but someone presses on your stomach, and you jerk away from it, a cry escaping your lips as the fire under your skin burns relentlessly. Lucy's voice is soothing, but your control is slipping away. The rusty tang of blood fills your mouth as your eyelids slide shut, the voices echoing confusingly in one ear fading away.

 

//

 

 

"Alex?"

Your limbs feel heavy as unwelcome light seeps into the comfort of unconsciousness.

"Alex? Can you open your eyes?"

"Kara," you mumble, irritated at being woken up. Realisation dawns on you at the same time your eyes flutter open. You're in the DEO, you realise, acknowledging the familiar room.

Your sister squeezes your hand, drawing your attention to her.

"Hey."

The crinkle between her eyebrows smoothens at the sound of your voice and she sighs, gripping your hand tighter.

"Don't ever do that to me again," she whispers, pulling you into a hug as gently as the Girl of Steel can manage.

You wince as she pulls away, and the crinkle comes back. Oops.

"It's fine, Kara. I'm okay."

She shakes her head almost angrily.

"I don't… Alex, no."

"No?"

" _No_."

Her eyes are sparkling with tears, and she rubs them away furiously.

"I nearly had to watch you _die_. You cut out the tracker so I couldn't find you and expected me to just what? Let you die? It doesn't work like that, Alex. You're not a soldier. You're not an agent. You're my sister. You don't get to decide to die for me."

"But I didn't die," you offer, your eyebrows pinching together.

"You did, actually."

"Huh?"

"For twelve seconds, you were dead."

She lets that hang in the air for a few seconds, and your jaw clenches with guilt.

"I'm sorry," you choke, tears spilling onto your cheeks. "I'm _so_ sorry, Kara."

She buries her face in your neck, holding you as you fight the lump in your throat.

After a while, there's a knock on the door, reminding you where you are.

"Come in."

Lucy steps into the room, already apologising to Kara. You feel your sister stiffen against your side and you look up to see what must be your blood staining her clothes.

"I was going to change, but they said she was awake," she says, turning her attention to you.

"I'll leave you two alone," Kara says, already gone before you can object.

"Thank you for not letting me die. I think Kara would've killed me for it," you mutter in a feeble attempt to make her smile.

She leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead with a sigh.

"Sorry," you mumble for the thousandth time.

She sits down on the chair beside your bed, staring intently at you.

"You're down a spleen," she pauses, "and don't think you can get away with not taking your meds. Two more fractured rib and one cracked, more internal bleeding that we're keeping an eye on, and a severe concussion."

"Oops."

She gives you her best Director Lane glare, eventually softening into a smile.

"Guess who I had to drag back to her own bed after she refused to sit anywhere except by you bed for…" Lucy glances at her watch, "five hours?"

You ignore her comment, feeling horrible about the way your chest squeezes at the thought of Astra caring about you.

"Shut up," you mumble.

"You should get some sleep," Lucy agrees, smoothing your hair down. "Oh, and Danvers?"

"If you pull something like that again, I'll fucking kill you myself."

"Don't worry, I believe you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment. You know you want to. :D


	4. Chapter 4

The next time you wake, someone’s hand in yours. Your eyes open, expecting Kara or Lucy, only to see Astra gazing intently at your face.

 

“Alexandra.”

 

“You’re here.”

 

Astra nods, the small smile on her lips not reaching her eyes. Your voice sounds rough, even to you. Wordlessly, she reaches for the glass by your bedside, holding the straw to your lips. Somehow, you swallow without choking when her fingers brush your lips. She pulls away quickly, leaving you wondering if you did something wrong.

 

“Thanks,” you mumble.

 

Your eyes sweep over her, noticing that her wrists are still bound with metal that glows a faint green in the dim light. Astra’s changed out of a gown and into a spare DEO uniform, and you can’t quite get over how good she looks in all black.

 

She catches you staring, of course. Her hand falls back to rest against yours, fingers drawing idle patterns on your skin. Neither of you speak for a few minutes, but you’re almost glad she doesn’t have her powers when you heart starts thudding loudly in your ears, the skin under Astra’s fingers tingling.

 

“You are beautiful,” she observes, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes don’t leave yours for a second, and you try not to shudder under the intensity of her stare. “I had forgotten how fragile you humans can be.”

 

“I’m not going to break.” You squeeze her hand in an effort to prove it but she doesn’t look convinced. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on dying just yet,” you assure her, smiling weakly.

 

A look of horror passes over her face, her eyebrows drawing together in concern.

 

“Alexandra,” she whispers, her eyes wide.

 

“No! I didn’t mean – I don’t plan on dying at all. I mean, I will eventually, you know, being a human and all that, but-”

 

Astra only looks more concerned for your sanity, but thankfully, Dr. Hamilton interrupts your nervous rambling.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she murmurs, looking from Astra’s face to yours, “I need to examine you, if that’s okay, Alex.”

 

You’ve been in this position enough times at this point not to feel self conscious, having spent about double the average time of every other agent in the DEO’s medical bay.

 

“It’s okay, you can stay,” you assure Astra as she looks uncomfortably at the wall. Her eyes soften, the fire melting into a warm brown that somehow manages to make your legs feel weak despite being currently unable to move them much.

 

As it turns out, your incision is healing well, the angry red scar fading slowly to a dark pink. Astra looks on intently, her lips parted in concentration as she catalogues your injuries. When she notices the deep blue bruising that stretches angrily across your chest like spilled ink, her teeth grind together in apparent fury. The handcuffs mustn’t contain much kryptonite, you realise, as the metal chair now has finger shaped dents that definitely weren’t there before.

 

“Everything looks good,” Hamilton says, adjusting the bag of fluids.

 

Astra’s gaze lingers on your bandages long after the doctor leaves.

 

“Director Lane has taken Kara home for the night,” she says eventually, the heady warmth of her voice marred by barely-disguised anger. You nod slowly, regretting the action when your head throbs dully, anxiety coiling in your stomach when Astra refuses to look at you.

 

You seem to have lost all concept of time, and a glance at the clock on the wall tells you it’s just past midnight. Silence echoes agonisingly around the room.

 

“I’m s-”

 

“Please, do _not_ apologise again, Alexandra,” she interrupts hoarsely, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

 

You swallow your apology, your heart thumping hard in your chest.

 

“Kara told me she has spoken with you about… Cadmus.”

 

“Astra.”

 

She swallows hard, shaking her head slightly at the crack in your voice.

 

“Please look at me.”

 

By the time she can bring herself to look at you, her eyes are wet with unshed tears, and your chest clenches, the urge to reach out to her overwhelming.

 

“What did they do to you?”

 

Your throat burns, the words scratching painfully as they leave your lips.

 

Astra huffs out a sound that falls somewhere between a sob and a laugh, her eyes wide as they dart up to meet yours.

 

“I believe Cadmus wanted to use me as they used you, Alexandra, as bait to lure my niece into their traps. Of course, Lillian Luthor did not tell me what exactly she did to me.”

 

She pauses, one hand stretched unconsciously out to yours. Something dark flashes in her eyes as she withdraws her hand.

 

“But?”

 

“But here I am. I remember small details about my death, but nothing clear until Kara found me,” she murmurs, her eyes softening when you give an involuntary shudder at the memory, “although I suppose I didn’t truly die. Rao has granted me another chance at life.”

 

“You don’t hate me?” you whisper, tears burning in your eyes.

 

Astra reaches out to you, the soft skin of her fingers caressing your face. She leans in slowly, and you can feel her breath tickling your neck. You could swear you see her eyes dart down to your lips for a split second, but she sighs softly, brushing away an escaped tear from your cheek with her thumb.

 

“We have both done reckless things to protect the ones we love.”

 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

 

“Sacrifices must be made in war, Alexandra. And I know now that I was on the wrong side of the battle. I do not regret how things have turned out, and I certainly don’t hate you.”

 

All the air rushes out of your lungs at her words, and the sudden movement sends a wave of pain through your abdomen, your breath catching in your throat.

 

“It’s fine,” you mumble, wincing as panic flits across her face.

 

“Sleep now, Brave One,” she murmurs softly, her voice warm in you ears.

 

Astra smiles gently, and you can’t help but admire how easily she moves with her wrists bound together as she brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your stomach flips when you realise that her face is just inches form yours, and she isn’t pulling back. Instead, she leans closer, her lips brushing yours for a fraction of a second before it’s over and she leans back.

 

Her wry smile fades as she pulls back, confusion burning in her eyes as you struggle not to have a full on heart attack.

 

“I apologise if I made you uncomfortable, I thought that was a common display of affection here on Earth.”

 

“N-not uncomfortable,” you disagree, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

 

Relief washes over her features and she nods at you once before walking through the door, leaving you wondering how long she’s been allowed to wander the DEO unattended. Your lips are still tingling, and you stare at the ceiling in the knowledge that you’re not getting anywhere close to sleep anytime soon.

 

 

 

//

 

 

 

You’re still awake when Lucy knocks on the door two hours later.

 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” you ask, looking at your watch.

 

“Why aren’t you?”

 

You shrug, wincing when it tugs on your stitches.

 

“Time for another dose?” she asks, the teasing smile on her face not reaching her eyes.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Anything not to talk about you, Danvers,” she mutters, sitting down on the chair.

 

You glare at her until her resolve breaks, and she rolls her eyes at you.

 

“If you didn’t have a concussion and Kara didn’t have superstength, I’d bang your heads together.”

 

“That’s a lot of ifs.”

 

“Yeah, well,” she sighs, looking at you wearily.

 

“So I was stupid enough to believe that the whole unnecessary guilt complex was just an Alex thing. Turns out it’s a Danvers thing.”

 

“What?”

 

“Your kid sister’s pretty messed up, you know.”

 

“You would be too if your entire planet was destroyed.”

 

“Not just that, Danvers. She blames herself for Cadmus.”

 

“Wha-why would she think that?”

 

Exasperation breaks through Lucy’s measured tone when she speaks.

 

“For the love of… look, here’s the thing. You think it’s your fault because,” she pauses, frowning, “you know what, I don’t even know how you reached that conclusion. And Kara thinks it’s her fault because you’re her sister, and she just so happens to be Supergirl in her free time.”

 

“Shit,” you whisper, closing your eyes. (And maybe Kara’s right about Lucy being a bad influence; her superhearing and child-like innocence mean your swear jar probably has more money in it than your bank account.)

 

“I know I’m not great at the whole communication thing, but you two are a whole new level of stupid, and I mean that in an I’m-doing-this-because-I-love-you-idiots-but-I’ll-never-say-it-out-loud kind of way, so you have to put up with it, okay?”

 

“Lucy-”

 

“I’m only getting involved here because this-” she gestures at you, “ _this_ is what happens when you two don’t talk.”

 

“No, this is what happens when Cadmus realises that I’m the weakest link in the DEO and exploits that to put half the city at risk.”

 

“You also need to talk to her about Astra,” she says, ignoring you after a moment of silence. Anger flashes through you at the idea.

 

“No, okay? No. Do you know how much that would hurt her? She’s going to hate me.”

 

“For God’s sake, Danvers, if she didn’t hate you for killing her, she’s not going to hate you for being in love with her either. She can handle more than you think.”

 

“But she shouldn’t have to!” you yell sitting upright instinctively. The movement sends pain ripping through your body, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

 

“Kara’s had enough to deal with, and I don’t understand why you think this is going to help her. How am I meant to protect her if all I do is make her life harder? If it’s not Cadmus trying to use me against her, I’m fucking everything up with this. All I do is make everything worse, okay? So don’t act like it’s not all me, because everyone else can see that it is.”

 

Your outburst leaves you breathless, having been pushed too far by the comment about Kara. Lucy’s arms are crossed over her chest angrily, but when she looks at you, her jaw clenches suddenly.

 

“What the hell, Danvers,” she growls, grabbing some gauze from a drawer and pressing it to your side, a shock of pain shooting through you. You look down to see bright red blood dribbling lazily through the hospital gown. Oh.

 

“Ow.”

 

You grit your teeth as calls for one of the nurses, just wanting them to leave you alone.

 

“It’s one stitch, Luce, I’m fine.”

 

“Alex.”

 

Kara bursts into the room in her civilian clothes, her glasses in her hand.

 

“Hey,” you mumble, gripping the sheets tightly in your fist as the nurse pulls on the incision.

 

“I was listening to your heart and it… but that’s not the point. You’re going to be okay, right Alex?” she asks. Her voice sounds small as she looks up at you with wide, child-like eyes.

 

“Yeah. I promise.”

 

Kara’s relief is visible as the nurse presses a new dressing over the wound, mumbling something about painkillers before she leaves. You want to protest about the drugs – you hate the feeling of having no control– but Lucy doesn’t seem to care much about that, pressing a plastic cup of pills into your fist.

 

When Lucy leaves, Kara takes your hand gently, like when she’d first come to live with you and she wouldn’t touch anything, including you, for fear of breaking anything.

 

“You should get some sleep,” she says, so quietly that you have to strain your ears to make out the words.

 

“Kara-”

 

“I mean it, Alex. Your heart hasn’t sounded sleepy all day and the doctor said you need to rest.”

 

“Sounded sleepy? How can a heart sound sleepy?” you splutter, trying not to laugh at her comment.

 

“It sounds slower. More regular.”

 

Kara pauses, squeezing your hand carefully.

 

“I can always hear it, you know. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could stop. That’s why I hate losing my powers so much, it’s not so bad being human, but it means I can’t listen out for you.”

 

There’s a lump in your throat all of a sudden, scratching at the raw skin there.

 

“So what have I missed?” you ask, forcing a smile in the hope of cheering Kara up.

 

“Well, everyone’s been really worried about you. Aunt Astra won’t stay away.”

 

You choke on the water, and Kara eyes you anxiously.

 

“I know she’s my aunt, but you don’t have to like her. I know she’s a little… I mean, she did try to enslave humanity.”

 

“But she did everything she did to try to save two whole planets, Kara.”

 

“You’re right. I think she realises that her methods weren’t exactly… ethical.”

 

“Did you speak to her?”

 

“She asked me and J’onn for an update every five minutes when you were in surgery. I think she really cares about you, Alex.”

 

Kara sounds sincere, and you feel your muscles relax slightly in response.

 

“I care about her too.”

 

“Really?”

 

“About that-”

 

The door bursts open, dumping the earth back in the whole you were digging yourself into.

 

“Sorry, Alex. Supergirl, they need you downtown,” J’onn says, using his Director Henshaw voice.

 

“Is it Cadmus?” you ask, wincing as you sit up.

  
“Just another bank robbery.”

 

“I’m there,” Kara agrees, sighing as she kisses your cheek.

 

J’onn watches you for a few seconds, his eyebrows raising when you grimace. In all honesty, you have no idea when the last time Hamilton said she gave you painkillers was. It would probably be inconvenient if you accidentally overdosed on morphine at this point, you reason.

 

“Take the damn pills, Alex,” her growls, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's angsty, then it's kinda fluffy. The Danvers Sisters finally talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took ages. It's a little shorter than usual, but enjoy!

 

“Alex?”

 

J’onn’s voice slices abruptly through the many layers of fog clouding your brain, but you can’t quite find the energy it takes to look at him.

 

“Alex?” he says again, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. You flinch automatically at the touch, cursing yourself for being so pathetic when he pulls away immediately.

 

“Sorry,” you mutter, waiting for him to answer the question he can probably hear your mind screaming from a mile away.

 

“I’m sorry, Alex. The lead didn’t get us anywhere.”

 

You don’t feel anything at his confession, the words bouncing off you as if you’re wearing your tactical gear.

 

“We’ll find your father. I promise.”

 

The wind bites at your skin, but you barely notice the chill as it tangles your hair. Somewhere, a siren blares, cutting through the sleepy haze the city falls into at night.

 

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he observes.

 

You sigh, deciding to ignore whatever lecture you’re about to receive about looking after yourself.

 

“I took the meds,” you mumble, a weak defence against the frustration in his tone.

 

He lets you take his arm, this time, instead of reaching for you first. Your skin crawls with the realisation that everyone now thinks you’re some kind of victim; traumatised, to be handled with care.

 

“Let’s get you back inside.”

 

The gentleness of his tone is mildly surprising, and thankfully, you don’t encounter any of your colleagues on the way back to your room. You watch impassively as J’onn secures one of the tubes tethering you to an IV, and the light tug on the back of your hand is an almost welcome distraction from the constant state of numbness.

 

“When will they be back?”

 

_When will Kara be back so I have to smile again?_

Of course, he knows exactly what you mean, his stare all too intense as you return to your previous activity of staring blankly at the wall.

 

“Kara’s worried about you, Alex. We all are.”

 

“You saved me, remember? I’m right here.”

 

“That’s not what I meant.”

 

You turn away, irritation twisting your stomach into knots.

 

“Alex, you’ve been through something unimaginable. You deserve some help.”

 

“I’m _fine_ ,” you hiss, the anger at yourself spilling into your voice.

 

“You’re not fine. If you were fine after what just happened, I’d be concerned. What you’re experiencing is a normal reaction to-”

 

“Please tell me you’re not about to give me the Mental Health for New Recruits talk.”

 

“Someone needs to. Kara idolises you, Alex, she always has. To her, you’re Supergirl. You’re the hero. It must be exhausting, being the one who protects the protector every day.”

 

You glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

 

“It’s my job, J’onn.”

 

“The DEO is your job. You can’t do everything, be responsible for everything - no one can. Even the best of us need a break sometimes, and you’re no help to anyone if you don’t look after yourself.”

 

“J’onn-”

 

“Don’t push the people who love you away, Alex. That’s all I ask.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“So. Astra.”

 

You swallow hard, making a conscious effort to think of anything but _her._ The mind reading thing is getting on your nerves at this point, the novelty of not having to speak on a mission having worn off a long time ago.

“What about her?”

 

“We don’t have a protocol for Kryptonians who come back from the dead, so technically we can’t hold her.”

 

“So we just let her go?” you ask doubtfully, raising an eyebrow at his attempt to make you smile.

 

“Not quite. Ideally she could stay with a trusted agent for a while, just until we sort out the legal implications.”

 

 _Trusted agent_.

 

“You mean me.”

 

He nods, watching you carefully.

 

“If it’s too much, I can ask Vasquez.”

 

“Babysitting a legally dead alien?” you say dryly, “I could do worse.”

 

You almost regret your choice of words when J’onn’s eyebrows pull together in confusion.

 

 

//

 

 

 

When Hamilton finally agrees to sign the discharge papers, it’s Kara that drives you home.

 

She stays silent for most of the ride, an unnerving contrast to her usual rambling. Even her driving – usually bordering on life-threatening – is strangely careful.

 

“I got you some stuff from that food truck in Chicago.”

 

“You’re my favourite person.”

 

Kara shrugs, the smile you’d expected at the nostalgia entirely absent from her face.

 

“You have something to say.”

 

Your sister sighs, watching you anxiously from the other side of the couch. The air is heavy with unspoken words, the tension so tangible it’s about to crush you under its weight.

 

“I think we should talk.”

 

“Uh oh. I know that tone.”

 

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay, Alex. You might be my big sister but I can handle this. I can help you.” Kara exhales slowly, like she’s trying not to scare you away with a sudden movement or loud noise. Everyone seems to be treating you like some kind of wounded animal – everyone except Lucy, that is.

 

“I know. You’re stronger than you look.”

 

Kara flexes, the ghost of a grin playing on her lips.

 

“Exactly.”

 

She reaches for your hand, squeezing gently as if to assure herself that you’re real.

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

Kara looks exasperated for a few seconds before an encouraging smile works its way into her eyes.

 

“Okay, I’ll start.”

 

Your breath catches in your throat, pausing expectantly on it’s way to your lungs.

 

“Just… don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?”

 

Nodding silently, you pull a blanket over your legs to give your hands something to do as Kara drops your hand to adjust her glasses awkwardly.

 

“You haven’t been yourself for a long time. We used to talk, and I think we’re both to blame for that, so don’t start apologising. Alex, I’m worried about you because you barely eat, you never sleep for more than a few hours, you only leave this apartment to go to work, and you don’t seem to care much what happens to you.”

 

You don’t realise tears are welling in your eyes until Kara brushes them away softly, holding your hand again.

 

“There’s a word for that, Alex.”

 

“You can say it, Kara. I’m not going to run away. Not that I’d get very far like this.”

 

She chuckles at your attempt at a joke, and relief washes through you, lessening the anxiety that’s gripping your chest.

 

“I think you’re depressed.”

 

“You don’t hate me? For giving up?”

 

“You’re my sister, Alex. I love you, however you are.,” she says fiercely, “You don’t have to blame yourself for everything, okay? I’m sorry I let it come to this.”

 

“Thank you,” you mumble into her neck, being buried in Kara’s hair in the gentlest hug she can manage.

 

“My turn?” you ask, cautiously pulling back from the hug.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“Lucy and I talked… about you blaming yourself for Cadmus kidnapping me.”

 

Kara lowers her eyes, the little crinkle forming between her eyebrows as she sighs.

 

“I’m Supergirl, of course they want my sister.”

 

“Look, if it’s not my fault, then it sure as hell isn’t yours. You save so many lives, Kara - you inspire people. Little girls watch you and they want to be like you when they grow up. They want to help people, to be superheroes, because of you. You make them feel strong, and brave, and free to be who they are without being afraid. Having Supergirl as my sister isn’t a burden, it makes me proud. I’m _proud_ to be your sister.”

 

“I put you in danger.”

 

“Firstly,” you gesture to the bandages looped around your torso, “I’m a danger magnet, and secondly, I work for the DEO. I’d be in constant danger regardless.”

 

“We’re kind of stupid.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“We’ll both find any way to blame ourselves for anything. I guess we’re more alike than I realised.”

 

“Maybe you’re right.”

 

Kara pauses, playing with the end of the blanket. It’s the longest you’ve seen her in the same room as a potsticker without already having inhaled it for a long time, and the weight of her concern hangs over you like a cloud.

 

“Alex?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Did you maybe want to talk about… about Astra?”

 

Your shoulders tense, and you make a conscious effort not to start lying. As much as you hate to admit it, Lucy may have had a point about lying to Kara blowing up in your face. But then again, you can imagine the betrayed look in her eyes if she knew. Maybe it’s better if you just get over it.

 

Which would be a hell of a lot easier if Astra realised friends don’t kiss each other, and stopped staring at your lips for two minutes.

 

“Kara, can we just… not? Please?”

 

“Not right now, then. But soon.”

 

“Kara…”

 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Alex. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

She puts on a movie, thinking you don’t see her eyes dart from the door to your face every few minutes. You must fall asleep at some point, because when you wake up the credits are being displayed on the screen.  

 

“How are you doing?” Lucy wants to know, offering her hand to help you sit up, “Kara went to meet J’onn.”

 

“I know what you’re going to say. Yes, I will take the painkillers. And Kara and I talked, so you don’t have to yell at me.”

 

Lucy raises her eyebrows, impressed.

 

“Well look at you looking after yourself. I’m glad.”

 

You swallow the pills she passes you, wincing when a cough tugs on your healing ribs.

 

“What did you talk about?”

 

“She told me I’m depressed and that Cadmus isn’t my fault. So I told her it’s not her fault either.”

 

Lucy’s eyes soften as she sits down next to Alex.

 

“And the other thing?”

 

“Luce.”

 

“Sorry, I know it’s complicated.”

 

“I just,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “I should just get over it. She doesn’t feel the same way and Kara-”

 

She cuts you off, “You’re sure about that? She’s been on earth long enough to know that kissing isn’t platonic, right?”

 

“But we-”

 

“That doesn’t count.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“No you don’t.”

 

“I don’t,” you admit, still glaring at her.

 

“Go to bed, Danvers.”

 

“Ugh. Fine.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that? There's a button right there that says 'comment'!


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